


Of Holosuites and Silverware

by NervousAsexual



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Dirty Talk, I don't know, I have no explanation you guys, M/M, Non-Explicit Sex, and for once the dream was funny, does spooning count as first base, except that this is once again a star trek fic based on a dream, my name is the nervous asexual for a reason
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-06
Updated: 2017-04-06
Packaged: 2018-10-15 08:26:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10553206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NervousAsexual/pseuds/NervousAsexual
Summary: While they wait in the Med Bay, Quark gets carried away imagining why Dr. Bashir is so late and tries to convince Odo he is an expert on human mating rituals.





	

Ordinarily Quark didn't care much for Starfleet medical care. Oh, sure, it was all well and good if you were human or Vulcan or something. But what did they know about Ferengi anatomy and constitution? He could do more himself than any pint-sized human doctor.

But ever since that run-in with the betazoid who dared to accuse him of cheating--him! the host!--he'd had a lump on his head and a terrible scratch right on an uncomfortable fold on his right ear. He'd tried to make Rom look at it, to see if it was as terrible as it felt, change the dressing, dampen it with some foul-smelling soup-like substance that a passing freighter captain swore up and down would heal any wounds, but all that got him was whinging and whining and pleas for the intervention of a medical professional. So now here he was in the medbay, with no sign of that human doctor anywhere, and who should be sitting on an examination table with his pail on his lap but DS9's own resident constable.

"That's it," Quark said, gathering his bandages about him in disgust. "I will not be harrassed in this manner, and in a medical facility! You have no right to interfere with... with... my medical decisions!"

Hunched over his pail, Odo gazed daggers in return. "I trust you believe me when I say that I have no interest in your medical decisions and would, in fact, rather be shifting through a Cardassian waste disposal unit than here."

Quark sniffed. "I demand to see Dr. Bashir."

"Hrm. When you do you can tell him I've been waiting since 1200 hours."

"1200 hours!" With a wait like that he could be there all day, leaving Rom in charge...

Leaving Rom in charge!

"Where is he?" he demanded. "Where is Bashir?"

Odo shook his head in the direction of the door. "One can only surmise."

Disgust. He felt primarily disgust, mixed with anger and seasoned with the throbbing in the knot on his head. He sat down on the nearest examination table in disgust.

"I can't believe this," he grumbled. "Don't they realize I'm a busy man? Don't they know I have things to do?"

"Oh, indubitably."

"You what?" Never mind, it probably wasn't important. "And what is Bashir doing? Probably drinking! In my bar! Carousing with my dabo girls!"

Odo made the traditional noise of disgust.

"You deny it? A handsome man like the doctor? He's probably stealing the dabo girls! Whisking them away in the night and..." Something rose up in his throat and he tugged at his collar. "...visiting holosuites."

Again Odo gave a groan and Quark noticed his features were looking a little amorphous.

"Are you alright? You look like a plomeek soup gone bad."

"Quite alright." Odo shored up his features.

"If you say so. Where was I?"

"You were fantasizing about Dr. Bashir's rich personal life."

"Right." Quark cleared his throat. "Doing the most unspeakable acts in my holosuites! And Rom, the lobeless incompetant, will let him, mark my words. All this while we, two very busy men of great import--" Here Odo scoffed, which Quark generously chose to ignore. "--sit here and wait on him. What are you in for, by the way? Regeneration trouble?"

Odo, who had begun to droop just a little, pulled himself together again. "My regeneration is no concern of yours."

"Don't get huffy, I was only being polite! Anyway, you might think I'm making these accusations out of nowhere, or, worse, projecting my own, erm, insecurities onto Bashir. Which I'm not! I don't have insecurities!"

"Perish the thought," Odo grumbled.

"But, you see, I know what goes on inside that fluffy curly-haired head. I've seen the kind of holonovels he uses! Alright, it's mostly adventure novels, but I once saw him reading the description for one of those horrible sappy romantic melodramas. The kind where bosoms are rising and falling and shirts are unbuttoned down to here. He's probably trying to reinact it right now with one of the dabo girls. Slipping up to her in the dark warmth of the bar... slipping an arm around her waist, whispering, 'Why don't we get out of here?' And she'll say yes, naturally, because Rom couldn't stop a limbless Bajoran from rolling out the door." Quark got to his feet and began to pace. "Losing all of my profits! But they'll go down to the holosuites and sidle into an empty... probably programmed to some kind of twisted human bedchamber with mood lighting and king sized mattresses... And he'll do one of these."

He gave Odo his best come-hither look. Odo was just staring at him now, not even in disgust, though possibly this was because his features were starting to run again.

  
"And she won't be able to resist the dear doctor because--and if you tell anyone I said this I'll deny it--he's quite ruggedly handsome for a human. They'll sit on the bed together, like so." He climbed onto Odo's exam table. "And he'll put his arm around her, like so." He put his arm around Odo's shoulders. They were slightly mushy but still quite strong and wide. "And then before you know it... spooning."

"What."

"Spooning. A devious human mating ritual. Here, I'll show you. You lie down."

"I will not..."

"Just do it!"

Glaring at him, Odo sank back onto the table, holding his pail upright on his chest.

"No, not like that! On your side!"

Odo squinted at him now but rolled to one side. He kept his pail upright and put an arm over it, as if Quark was going to snatch it away.

"Yes, like that. Then the other human lies like this..." He lay down behind Odo and put an arm over his side. "See? Like that. You see how easily two humans could compromise themselves like this."

"Hrm."

"And then he'll probably lean in closer." He tucked himself in even tighter behind Odo and squeezed him around where a humanoid's ribs would be. "And he'll feel her warmth and she'll feel his, and maybe he'll do that lip thing with the back of her neck..." Quark nudged the back of Odo's neck with his forehead. "That thing humans do. And they'll twine their legs together..." He hooked a leg around one of Odo's. "And hold her very close and say..."

"Turn around," Odo rasped.

"Well, maybe, but probably he'll..."

"Quark, turn around!"

"Oh!" Quark let him go--and Odo gasped--and turned over on his other side. "That could happen too. You see, your position is called the 'small spoon' and when it's reversed you'd be in what they call the 'large spoon' position." Odo said nothing. "Odo? Did you hear me? They call their mating positions after silverware!... Odo?"

He turned around and saw the last of the constable oozing into the pail in a gelatinous mass.

"Fine!" He shouted into the pail. "I just thought you'd like to know!"


End file.
